


the sound of settling

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Pining, onesided tsukiyama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 00:16:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3629568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not what he wants, but it's all he has.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the sound of settling

He would rather be anywhere but here.

Well, no, that wasn't true, exactly-- he could be somewhere worse: he could be running endless laps under Ukai's watchful eye, sweat sticking to his shirt; he could be caught in a rainstorm; he could be lost somewhere unfamiliar with a dead phone battery; or, worst of all, he could be walking in on Hinata and Kageyama fucking in the supply closet.

(Again.)

All things considered, this wasn't the best place to be, but it wasn't the worst, either.

"Hey," Kuroo's voice touches this side of breathless, grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You daydreamin' down there?"

Tsukishima offers a small grunt, the noise caught in the back of his throat. Kuroo huffs, amused and maybe a little impatient, planting his hands firmly on either side of Tsukishima's head. The eye contact is blurry on Tsukishima's end, but from what he can tell, there's some sort of mirth dancing in his eyes.

When Kuroo moves over him, he grits his teeth, thighs tensing: the shift of his cock inside him is still aching, still hot, all tense pressure as Kuroo rolls his hips experimentally. It feels good, embarrassingly so: but then again, this is what he's here for.

A certain loneliness, an aching lack of touch had sent him spiraling Kuroo's way, drawn by lidded eyes and a feline smile, dark hair falling smooth under Tsukishima's touch. Everything about him was carefree even with passion coiled inside him, and his _come hither_ gaze had been all the convincing Tsukishima needed.

It wasn't what he wanted, but it was enough.

"Do you plan on moving?" Tsukishima prides himself on the evenness of his voice, managing to keep his tone flat and firm. When Kuroo slowly, agonizingly pushes up into him again, he groans behind gritted teeth, fingers curled where he's gripping the headboard. "I'll get up and leave," he threatens, even as Kuroo laughs.

"That's not the only 'getting up' you'll be doin' today, huh?" It's crude, tinged with humor, but it rings true: Tsukishima was absolutely hard, achingly so-- as he'd been the second Kuroo had pushed his sweats down, mouth hot against his throat.

"Move," Tsukishima says, rough and demanding-- then bites back a groan when Kuroo _does_ , head tilting back at the fresh wave of heat that hits him when the blunt head of his cock hits home. The only sound then is the sound of Kuroo's breath, faster and harder, pleased as he drags a hand down Tsukishima's side to dig fingers into his thigh. Tsukishima squeezes his eyes shut, every steady thrust pushing a quiet 'ah' out of him.

This wasn't the body he thought he'd end up touching. If he lies back and imagines hard enough, he can picture star maps of freckles under his palms, a quiet smile against his mouth, the hushed gasp of his name against his skin.

It's not enough, but he'll take what he can get.

"Harder," Tsukishima bites out, grunting as Kuroo sits back, hands digging firm into his hips. It aches where he touches, deep and warm, but it's exactly what he needs. His whole body tenses as Kuroo fucks into him, hard and fast-- it's not overwhelmingly pleasurable, it never is, but Kuroo is filling him, gripping him tight as he takes what he wants and it's good, it's so good, enough to have him tilt his head back as his mouth falls open.

"C'mon," Kuroo urges, panting against Tsukishima's neck -- he hadn't felt him lean in close, but the hot breath elicits a shudder, and he tightens his calves where they hook over Kuroo's thighs. "Say somethin'. _Do_ something-- don't be a pillow princess, _Tsukki_."

At that, Tsukishima's eyes fly open, expression immediately switching to something raw and indignant. He can't see Kuroo's face, bent into Tsukishima's neck as he is, but he can almost feel the taunting grin stretching over his face.

"Don't _call_ me that--" Tsukishima grinds out, before making a noise somewhere between a gasp and a shout, hands flying to Kuroo's shoulders as he pulls his hips up, angling himself _just so_ and _fuck,_ fuck, _pounds_ into him with renewed vigor, mouth sucking a dark bruise into the side of his throat. It's sweet, so much sweeter now, and Tsukishima gasps with every motion, feeling every thick push of Kuroo's cock into him, the sticky sound of skin on skin achingly loud in the otherwise quiet room.

The sheets are sweaty where they cling to his back, his shoulders, sticking to him as he arches up into Kuroo's touch. Every thrust rolls heat through him, flushing pink up his chest and neck, tinting his face even as he lets himself pant, breaths desperate-- every time Kuroo bottoms out inside of him, he exhales harsh against Tsukishima's neck, hot and close, intimately close, unbearably close.

Dully, as his body shakes apart under his touch, Tsukishima wonders what it would be like to have someone under him like this. Gasping, fingernails digging half-moons into his skin, lashes low and dark as he stares up at Tsukishima, affectionate, happy, _loving_ , even--

"Fuck," Kuroo groans against Tsukishima's throat, and then he fucks into him especially hard, movements rough and erratic. Tsukishima hisses, arms wrapping tight around him, pushing back down against the smoothness that's Kuroo's cock shoving into him, his own dick hard and flush against his belly. "C'mon, Tsukki, fuck-- you're-- _fuck_ , you feel _so_ good--"

Those words shouldn't make heat zing right to his core, especially accompanied by that nickname, but he tightens his grip in Kuroo's hair, thighs trembling.

"If you stop," he gasps out, sentence punctuated by a bit-off groan, "I'll kill you." Kuroo laughs as he pulls back, gaze searing and infinitesimally challenging--

"Big words, huh?" he pants, grin wide and toothy, fingers bruising as he pushes into him, again and again, movements inexorable and frustrating as Tsukishima shivers under him. God, he lasts _forever_ \-- but Tsukishima won't complain, as long as he keeps fucking him like he wants, ruthless and hot, littering his skin with bruises and filthy promises: _what if I bent you over the couch next, fucked you against the wall 'til you screamed for me, come on, I'll make you come until you're sore..._

It's not what he wants, but it's so, _so_ good.

Tsukishima feels his body tense, arms and legs rigid as his jaw locks, breaths coming hard through his nose as he feels familiar twisting heat in his gut.

"You gonna come?" Kuroo gasps out, and Tsukishima almost snarls, toes curling-- but then Kuroo's rough fingers curl around his cock, pumping him once, twice, again, firm and steady, and it only takes a few seconds until he seizes, mouth going slack as he comes hard, hips stuttering, uneven, unable to bite back the shout that escapes him.

The name is not Kuroo's: it's wordless, a jumble of sound and desperation that starts somewhere with a _Y_ and ends with a _chi_ sound, shaking out the rolling crash of his orgasm even as Kuroo pumps into him.

 

Kuroo has the decency to ignore it.

His stamina really is incredible, Tsukishima thinks, mind hazy as he goes limp, come thick and warm against his stomach, arms sliding down from where they'd gripped his shoulders. There's barely pleasure for him in it now, the ripples of aftershock fading away, just Kuroo's cock in him again and again, hot and thick until he groans deep in his throat, pushing Tsukishima's thighs up as his hips stutter, pushing deep and coming wet inside him.

Tsukishima grimaces at the feeling, letting his legs fall to the bed as Kuroo relinquishes his grip, noting with displeasure the wetness now cooling against his stomach. Rough hands drag down his legs, pointed and leisurely, and Tsukishima heaves out a tiny sigh.

The palms against his skin are too calloused, too wide and tough, digging hard into his hips so there'd be unmistakable bruises later. He'd rather they'd be darker. Gentler. Warmer. Dusted with freckles.

"You're a mess," Kuroo comments, lazy and smiling as Tsukishima sits up with a huff. He simply watches as he reaches over for his glasses, sliding them back onto his face, expression suddenly ureadable. His hair's not worth bothering with-- it's mussed beyond repair, ruffled where Kuroo had pushed his fingers through it, grabbing tight and desperate, where it'd rubbed against the sheets again and again as Kuroo fucked him, greedy and unapologetic.

Tsukishima doesn't bother with a response, doesn't bother with cleaning himself even as he tugs his clothes back on, doesn't look where Kuroo's lazily stretched over his bed. He'd have to take a shower, no doubt, but not here: a shower here would mean Kuroo sliding into the spray of water with him, and that would mean no actual showering would get done.

"You gonna come back at some point?" Kuroo queries, voice slow and pleased as Tsukishima zips up his jacket. He takes a moment to respond, hefting his bag over his shoulder before clearing his throat.

When he looks up, he meets Kuroo's gaze, sharp even under hooded eyes, the beginnings of a grin curling his lips. Tsukishima squares his shoulders, suddenly defensive. Kuroo's bed is not the one he wants to be in: Kuroo's laundry detergent doesn't smell like lavender and spring, his pillows are red, not white; the comforter is messy and askew, rather than hurriedly folded to some semblance of neatness.

It's not what he wants, but it's all he has.

"Yes," he bites out, turning on his heel to leave. Kuroo says nothing, but he can feel gaze digging into his back.

The knowingness in Kuroo's eyes makes them shining and unapologetic.

They were as bright and hard as stars, perhaps, but they would never be constellations.

**Author's Note:**

> im pretending i havent updated my other hq fic since december
> 
> take this... i hate myself... i love both kurotsuki and tsukiyama please dont look at me. im trash


End file.
